


A Situation That’s as Sticky as Magnets

by Magical-Robins (DeletedBecauseShy)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff, Gen, Jason Todd is A Ghost, Light Angst, Tim Drake is Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:07:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeletedBecauseShy/pseuds/Magical-Robins
Summary: Being a ghost really isn’t that great, Jason has experience. It’s just boring. You can’t touch things, eat things, people can’t even hear you talk! All he can do is move magnets ever so slightly. Which, fun as it is at first, gets real boring real fast.When Tim Drake, the newly crowned Robin and sort-of-orphan, shows up one day with a bag of alphabet magnets you only see on the family fridge and at school, things get pretty weird for both of them.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 9
Kudos: 151





	A Situation That’s as Sticky as Magnets

<—>

Life had been calm for Jason ever since his death. Even after his apparent reincarnation, not much had changed. He still walked along the manor’s halls, watching Bruce work and train and trying to copy him as closely as possible. The only big changes to his schedule revolve around him no longer needing sleep and being able to literally cut corners, or, phase through corners. He could walk through things, everything. 

It was one of the only benefits of being a newly-dead ghost. 

No one could see or hear him, he passed through anything he tried to touch, and he couldn’t even leave the manor grounds. When he tried, it was like hitting a wall, one he couldn’t pass through. Which, he thought, was bullshit. He could go through everything! What was holding him back? Everything else was like air to him except the four stupid walls around the house! Those were just as sturdy as every other brick wall he had ever seen. 

Well, there were worse places to haunt. 

The only other benefit was his new half-power. He thinks of it as half because it’s as useful as his goddamn pinky toe. As in, not only could he live without it, he wouldn’t even notice it was gone. 

When he had first discovered it, he had been amazed. Affecting magnet fields had seemed like magic! Until he learned just how many limits there were to go along with the new ability. 

He could push a magnet around when he was within an inch of it and assuming it wasn’t going against natural polarity of the thing. If it was stuck, being held, holding something heavy, or even slightly too breezy, it was useless to even try. 

For now, he only ever uses his ability to mess with the new kid, letting the papers held up on the whiteboards around his room fall at every chance. Tim, he found out, had the best reactions. 

The boy was meek and skinny, not in a poor, malnutrition’s way, his body just didn’t hold most of its fat and muscle in visible spots. It was his mind, though, that had drawn Bruce to him (or maybe vice-versa). Sharp as a dagger, the kid was, and funny too. 

Not that he tried to be funny, it was just his nature. If anything, he was probably going for the opposite effect. But, watching such a young boy copying everything B does as closely as possible while being built like a twig is just naturally entertaining. 

<—>

Tim didn’t really have a reason to grab the bag of magnets on his way to the counter, it was just some strange form of nostalgia that drew him to them. The fake, bright colours would look great surrounded by black and grey and dark blue and more black in the cave. 

So, when he rips open the bag and starts pulling out an assortment of letters, he really doesn’t have an answer to Bruce’s question. “Why?” He had asked, assuming Tim himself had had a reason. 

“Dunno,” he starts, “just kinda saw them and decided to toss them in the cart.” His hands were making quick work of arranging and rearranging them on one of the metal walls. 

HELLO, the new (fridge but not really) magnets readout. 

<—>

Man, bless Tim for his accidental stroke of genius. In a matter of seconds, being dead got about 10 times better. Especially when his plan turned out to be not only plausible but possible. 

Jason could move the magnets. 

All it took was focusing the energy he could feel pulsing around him into smaller, noticeable jets of force to push them around slightly. It was strange, actually using his ability for a reason other than minor mischief. Still, it’s a slow, tiring process to move the men around to form new and different words. 

He keeps the H and E in place, shifting the others to the side as quickly as possible. Then, from the small cluster below his forming word, he finds the rest of what he needs. The Y comes up next, followed by a T and I. It takes a bit longer to find an M, there only seems to be one. But, he does, and his new sentence is spelt out neatly on the board. 

HEY TIM

<—>

What, what, what, Tim’s mind repeats for a second before switching to ghost, ghost, ghost a moment later. “How’d you do that, Bruce?” He asks cautiously, still holding out hope for a completely normal and scientific answer. 

“Do what?” His mentor replied without even looking in his direction. “Did something happen over there?” Yes, yes something definitely did, he thinks. 

“Nope!” Why did he say that‽ “Sorry to bother you.” No, no, no. Stop that, ask for help. Oh dear, oh no, oh dear, oh no. He looks on in horror as the letters move once again into a different word. 

LIAR

Tim wants to scream very, very loudly. Whatever ghost, he was fairly certain it was a ghost, was haunting him was obviously malicious and evil and not good. 

<—>

Okay, maybe Jason hadn’t thought out the whole ‘liar’ part. It only occurred to him after watching the other boy’s face morph into a look of horror that he realised it wasn’t as playfully mischievous as he had meant for it to sound. Yeah, it just sounded creepy. 

In an attempt to fix his, small, mistake, he forces the magnets to move once again. SORRY, he writes. 

<—>

SORRY

What? Was the ghost apologising now? This couldn’t be real; Tim had to be dreaming. If it is a dream, it’s a very lucid dream, it feels too real. Dreams don’t normally have so much backstory to them. Yet, he can clearly remember leaving the store just an hour earlier. 

He’s about to swap the letters around when he stops; could the ghost hear him? “Can you listen to me?” He tries, hopefully. There’s a second of stillness before the colours shift around again. YES, it spells. “Cool, that’s cool,” he can feel his heart speed up in his chest. “Who are you? Er- what’s your name?” Was it rude to use present-tense? Do ghosts prefer past-tense when talking about themselves? Or, is that even more offensive? 

<—>

Damnit, he can’t find the J. After a while, they all kinda start to blend together in his mind, the colours and letters alike. Jason had cleared the board fully before he started searching for the letters he would need. It only took a second to remember the S from yes and push it over again. After that, an A, O, and N followed. 

ASON, that should get the point across, temporarily at least. It looked a little like arson but that was fine too. “Your name is Ason? Or, is it A son?” Ugh, wasn’t the kid supposed to be smart? 

He takes a second to push the last to letters up before swapping them for a moment. NO, he gives it a second before putting everything back and resuming his previous search. 

What looks like J? L, no then Tim would call him Lason. I, nope there wasn’t even a little bit of a curve. A lowercase f if you flip it upside down; not only were there no lowercase letters, that idea was also stupid. Wait-

He finds the right letter. Right between an L and a T, it’s no wonder he couldn’t find it very quickly. Alright, it’s done. 

<—>

JASON

The name sounds familiar to Tim. “Jason...” he whispers it to himself a few times, “Todd?” Was the former Robin of all people haunting the manor and cave? That’d be cool. No, bad. Jason was dead, him being back would probably be a bad thing. 

Was it lifeist (Bodyist? Spookphobic?) to assume all ghosts were evil? Would that make horror stories and children’s tales propaganda? Anti-ghost propaganda, was that a thing? 

He didn’t even notice when there’s a new word on the wall. YES. What had he asked again? Oh yeah, Jason. Jason Todd. Jason Todd, the ghost. Second Robin; he thinks about it in the most respectful way possible, the dead one. Oh no. 

Jason Todd had decided to haunt Tim of all people, why him? Was Jason just haunting the manor instead? Did ghosts haunt people or places, he wasn’t sure. 

<—>

Had Jason killed him or something? The kid was just staring forward blankly. Had he gone into shock? If he had, Bruce would probably hold that against him. Did it count as murder if it was both involuntary, accidental, and he was already dead as well? 

Technically, Jason couldn’t be legally charged for anything that had happened after he had died. Before that though, well posthumous trials existed for a reason.

Oh, oh Tim was moving again. Thank god. Wasn’t he gonna ask another question? There was no way his mind wasn’t racing with a question, that would be scarily out of character. Tim was curious, why was he still just standing there? Jason had things to talk about, damnit! He hadn’t had a (two-way) conversation in months!

Finally, the boy had finished his (mental) reboot. “How old are you?” Fuck Tim. Didn’t he realise there weren’t any numbers for him to use? There was a lot of letters in ‘sixteen’, it would take forever! Fine. Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine. 

<—>

Tim wasn’t sure Jason was still there after he took so long to even remove the previous answer. It’s only when there is a few, deliberate pushes around the board that he realises that whatever Jason is spelling must be a long word. 

By his calculations, the answer should be sixteen, assuming Jason aged normally. Maybe he had even been gone completely for a bit; if so, would that time count towards his age? It doesn’t matter. What does matter is what the letters form when they finally stop moving. 

SIXTEEN

Aw yeah, he was right! “That’s nice; I’m still fourteen. Okay, next question! Can you fly?” He fidgets slightly while he waits, genuinely curious about the answer. 

YES

After that, his questions come like some sort of quick-fire round. 

“Do you need to eat?” NO

“Can you eat?” the answer didn’t change. 

“Can you walk through things?” YES

“How do you stop from falling through the floor if you can phase?” FOCUS

“Is magnetism your only power? Is it even magnetism?” YES

“Can you leave the manor?” NO

“Do you want to leave the manor?” YES

“Does Bruce know you’re a ghost?” NO

“Do you want him to know?” Again, there was no change. 

“What about Dick?” MAYBE

“Alfred?” YES

<—>

Jason took a second to answer the last question. As much as he wanted to keep the circle as small as possible, he wanted to talk to Alfred again even more. It would be nice to be able to talk to more people. 

Truly, the only person he wanted to wait to tell was Bruce. It was still too early for that, he wouldn’t know what to say. He was still angry and sad. When he had first opened his eyes, the feelings had been there. It was easy to assume that was because his subconscious still blamed Bruce, felt that the older man had let him down. But, as time passed, he realised that wasn’t true. 

He had never blamed Bruce for being late, not even when his broken, bloody body was pushed up against the warehouse door. Even then, he had nothing but respect for the man that had become a second, better father. 

No, it was something else, something Jason still couldn’t place. It was the type of thing that could be stoked into a fiery rage or left to wait until it disappeared all on its own, the type of feeling that only went away when it grew or died. To Jason, it felt like he was standing on a cliff, still able to fall forward or step back. Only time would tell. 

Yeah, Bruce was a difficult situation. A difficult situation that finally decided to talk once again. “Gear up, Tim. It’s about time for patrol.” Well, there goes his new... acquaintance? Friend? Brother? Jason wasn’t quite sure yet. 

<—>

“Okay, B, just a second!” He yelled out to the man. Then, quieter, “I gotta go. I’ll see you later, okay?” 

The letters moved more and quicker than they had in a while. It seems Jason was finally getting the hang of using the magnets. In a matter of seconds, Jason had spelt out three whole words. 

OKAY BE SAFE

“I will be, promise.” 

BYE

**Author's Note:**

> Did I have a funny though one (1) time and then just go off on a writing spree? Yeah, maybe a little. If you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, leave a comment and kudos! ~<3


End file.
